


Mission Report: Grillennium Falcon

by soufflegirl91



Series: 007 Fest Creations [6]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - Ian Fleming
Genre: Aliens, Gen, IN SPACE!, Restaurants in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 07:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soufflegirl91/pseuds/soufflegirl91
Summary: Q doesn't believe that Bond is telling the truth in his mission report. Who would open a restaurant in space, after all?





	Mission Report: Grillennium Falcon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [christinefromsherwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/gifts).



> Cross-posted to Tumblr
> 
> Christine challenged me to write this. I hope you like it!

“When you go dark for a mission, 007, I expect you to tell the truth in your mission report. Not... this. Honestly, Bond, who puts a _restaurant_ in space?”

Q's diatribe had been going on for at least 10 minutes. Bond hadn’t even sent the mission report to Q, but apparently M had seen fit to copy him in. As a laugh, probably. Bond wasn’t quite sure who was supposed to be laughing.

“You didn’t even try to make it realistic. What kind of name for a restaurant is _Grillennium Falcon_? You can’t seriously expect me to believe that.”

Ok, James actually _had_ made that one up. Still, it was more believable than the truth. Who would believe that one crazy offshoot of SPECTRE had opened a Beatles-themed diner. In space. And called it _Beatlesgeuse_? No one, that’s who.

“You do realise, of course, that artificial gravity has yet to be invented,” well, now it had. Q just didn’t believe him, “so there is absolutely no way that you would be getting silver service by waiters in _spacesuits_.”

Q was becoming quite irate. Maybe not the best time to correct him. Still, this was an opportunity too good to miss.

“Not waiters, Q. Gastronauts. Gastronomic astronauts.”

Oh yes, the eye roll was definitely worth it. It looked like it actually hurt.

“You said the sommelier was, and I quote, ‘a little green man.’ _Really_ , 007?”

“The sommelier really was green, and only about 4 foot 6. His name was Steve.”

Was this it? Actual apoplexy? Certainly the loudest sigh Bond had ever heard from Q. 

“Well, 007, I’m glad you take your mission reports so seriously. Maybe next time you’ll bring back a souvenir.”

This was it. Peak sarcasm. He would beat all the other double ohs in getting Q to react badly to a mission report. 

Which would have been great, if only he hadn’t been telling the truth.


End file.
